vacation's come and gone too late

News In Briefs
WYWS Edition
* I'm not sure what's more irritating about coming back--the soggy 95 degree Okayama heat (Paris was barely warm enough for shorts), climbing the Ridai hill for another morning at the office in the aforementioned slop, or the culturally-imposed guilt trip upon return from an extended absence to a Japanese workplace without proper omiyage. It doesn't bother me at all that I never bring anyone anything, but for the "always buy something even from the next town over" wiener-trains whose incessant questioning fills my ears, simple negligence will never do. Instead, having finally attained an uncomfortable level of Japanese cultural assimilation, I now feel free to move about and pick and choose the elements of Japan that best suit me. Keeping my shirt on while I run? Ok, fine. Texting or email instead of face-to-face communication? Sure, I'll adjust. But buying your dumb ass a souvenir every time I step out the door? Sorry poindexter, does not compute.

* To its metaphor-loving detractors, while Clone Wars may have been the animated pimp-slap to the aged and botox-infused face of the Star Wars "franchise," it mattered little to me. I am not loyal enough a fan to give two shits about which brand of deodorant George Lucas uses, nor am I casual enough to not know about the Wilhelm Scream.
I am comfortably in the middle--that glorious patch of Star Wars fandom whose inhabitants do not mind enjoying the movies for what they are. We can pay our money for a ticket and some gummies, walk into the theater, and cheer as badass clone troopers shoot the heads off of robot separatist scum for two hours, and love every second of it without having to feel obligated to bitch in an internet forum about each movie announcing the franchises' death knell.
Haters get bent.

* For your immediate viewing pleasure, you can find some new photos from Paris in the now complete album below. Oh, and sorry about the gaping ass crack. Curiosity couldn't be helped. Who would have thought--French butts are just like American butts?

Paris in August